Obediently all the children got up and put their hands on their hearts and the New Teacher did the same, and they began in unison, “I pledge allegiance to the flag of—”
“Just a moment,” the New Teacher said. “What does pledge mean?”
The children stood openmouthed; Miss Worden had never interrupted them before. They stood and stared at the New Teacher. Wordless. And silent.
“What does allegiance mean?” the New Teacher asked, her hand over her heart.
The children stood in silence. Then Mary put up her hand. “Well, pledge is, ah, well, something like — sort of when you want to do something very good. You sort of pledge you’re going to do something like not suck your thumb ’cause that makes your teeth bend and you’ll have to wear a brace and go to the dentist, which hurts.”
“That’s very good, Mary. Very, very good. To pledge means to promise. And allegiance?”
Mary shrugged helplessly and looked at her best friend, Hilda, who looked back at her and then at the teacher and shrugged helplessly too.
The New Teacher waited, and the silence hung in the room, hurting. Then she said, “I think it’s quite wrong for you to have to say something with long words in it if you don’t understand what you’re saying.”
So the children sat down and waited expectantly.
“What did your other teacher tell you that it meant?”
After a long silence Danny put up his hand. “She never said nothing, miss.”
“One of my teachers at the other school I went to before this one,” Joan said in a rush, “well, she sort of said what it all meant, at least she said something about it just before recess one day and then the bell went and afterwards we had spellin’.”
Danny said, “Miss Worden — well, she never told us. We just hadta learn it and then say it, that’s all. Our real teacher didn’t say anything at all.”
All the children nodded. Then they waited again.
“Your teacher never explained to you?” All the children shook their heads.
“I don’t think that was very good. Not to explain. You can always ask me anything. That’s what a real teacher should do.” Then the New Teacher said, “But didn’t you ask your daddies and mommies?”
“Not about ‘I pledge.’ We just hadta learn it,” Mary said. “Once I could say it, Daddy gave me a nickel for saying it good.”
“That’s right,” Danny said. “So long as you could say it all, it was very good. But I never got no nickel.”
“Did you ask each other what it meant?”
“I askt Danny once and he didn’t know and none of us knowed really. It’s grown-up talk, and grown-ups talk that sort of words. We just havta learn it.”
“The other schools I went to,” Hilda said, “they never said anything about it. They just wanted us to learn it. They didn’t ask us what it meant. We just hadta say it every day before we started school.”
“It took me weeks and weeks and weeks to say it right,” Mary said.
So the New Teacher explained what allegiance meant, “...so you are promising or pledging support to the flag and saying that it is much more important than you are. How can a flag be more important than a real live person?”
Johnny broke the silence. “But the next thing is — well, where it says ‘and to the republic for which it stands.’ That means it’s like a, like a...” He searched for the word and could not find it. “Like a well, sort of sign, isn’t it?”
“Yes. The real word is a symbol.” The New Teacher frowned. “But we don’t need a sign to remind us that we love our country, do we? You’re all good boys and girls. Do you need a sign to remind you?”
“What’s remind mean?” Mary asked.
“It means to make you remember. To make you remember that you’re all good boys and girls.”
The children thought about this and shook their heads.
Johnny put up his hand. “Its our flag,” he said fiercely. “We always pledge.”
“Yes,” the New Teacher said. “It is a very pretty one.” She looked at it a moment and then said, “I wish I could have a piece of it. If it’s so important, I think we should all have a piece of it. Don’t you?”
“I’ve a little one at home,” Mary said. “I could bring it tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Mary dear, but I just wanted a little piece of this one because its our own special classroom one.”
Then Danny said, “If we had some scissors we could cut a little piece off.”
“I’ve some scissors at home,” Mary said.
“There’s some in Miss Worden’s desk,” Brian said.
The New Teacher found the scissors and then they had to decide who would be allowed to cut a little piece off, and the New Teacher said that because today was Mary’s birthday (How did you know that? Mary asked herself, awed) Mary should be allowed to cut the piece off. And then they decided it would be very nice if they all had a piece. The flag is special, they thought, so if you have a piece, that’s better than having just to look at it, ’cause you can keep it in your pocket.
So the flag was cut up by the children and they were very proud that they each had a piece. But now the flagpole was bare and strange.
And useless.
The children pondered what to do with it, and the idea that pleased them most was to push it out of the window. They watched excitedly as the New Teacher opened the window and allowed them to throw it into the playground. They shrieked with excitement as they saw it bounce on the ground and lie there. They began to love this strange New Teacher.
When they were all back in their seats the New Teacher said, “Well, before we start our lessons, perhaps there are some questions you want me to answer. Ask me anything you like. That’s only fair, isn’t it, if I ask you questions?”
Mary said, after a silence, “We never get to ask our real teacher any questions.”
“You can always ask me anything. That’s the fair way. The new way. Try me.”
“What’s your name?” Danny asked.
She told them her name, and it sounded pretty.
Mary put up her hand. “Why do you wear those clothes? Well, its like a sort of uniform nurses wear.”
“We think that teachers should be dressed the same. Then you always know a teacher. It’s nice and light and easy to iron. Do you like the color?”
“Oh, yes,” Mary said. “You’ve got green eyes too.”
“If you like, children, as a very special surprise, you can all have this sort of uniform. Then you won’t have to worry about what you have to wear to school every day. And you’ll all be the same.”
The children twisted excitedly in their seats. Mary said, “But it’ll cost a lot, and my momma won’t want to spend the money ’cause we have to buy food and food is expen— Well, it sort of costs a lot of money.”
“They will be given to you. As a present. There’s no need to worry about money.”
Johnny said, “I don’t want to be dressed like that.”
“You don’t have to accept a present, Johnny. Just because the other children want to wear new clothes, you don’t have to,” the New Teacher said.
Johnny slunk back in his chair. I’m never going to wear their clothes, he said to himself. I don’t care if I’m going to look different from Danny and Tom and Fred.
Then Mary asked, “Why was our teacher crying?”
“I suppose she was just tired and needed a rest. She’s going to have a long rest.” She smiled at them. “We think teachers should be young. I’m nineteen.”
“Is the war over now?” Danny asked.